


Untitled (Only sometimes I remember you…)

by amorremanet



Series: turning and turning in the widening gyre [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Original Work
Genre: Angst, Biblical References, F/F, Implied Sexual Content, Love Poems, Minor Character(s), Originally Posted Elsewhere, Originally Posted on Tumblr, POV Female Character, POV First Person, POV Minor Character, Poetry, Roleplaying Character, Sexual Metaphors, Song of Songs, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-07
Updated: 2010-09-07
Packaged: 2018-01-05 03:07:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1088883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amorremanet/pseuds/amorremanet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Don’t lie to me. It doesn’t suit the color of your eyes.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Untitled (Only sometimes I remember you…)

**Author's Note:**

> This is really only a Harry Potter fanwork inasmuch as it was originally written in character for Gyre, a Harry Potter RPG that was hosted on Insanejournal once upon a time. But both of the characters were only tenuously related to canon and this poem may as well be an original work. Judith Wilkes, my lady and the character author of it, was meant to be the no-first-name Death Eater Wilkes; her recipient, Jael Zeller (played by rebooting), was an Unspeakable and the future aunt of Hufflepuff student, Rose Zeller.
> 
> Crossposted to tumblr [here](http://amorremanet.tumblr.com/post/70438659496/untitled-judith-to-jael-ao3).

Only sometimes I remember you  
when the stars hang close to my chest, barely emerging, newborn every night.  
In between their pricks of light, the darkness sings like you do  
swings low and whispers to me in your voice  
ghosts across my face and neck the way your fingers used to  
burns like the halo of your hair  
and all my senses stand at attention for an illusion of proximity.

Beneath my back, the grass moans  
bristles, traverses the paths that your intrepid fingers used to walk  
and in the moon’s wet summer heat  
I feel the sticky humidity of your garden.  
The yearning for you, for the love of you  
for the position on my knees between your legs and begging  
suppliant attending to your every need  
with cracked lips and expert tongue, practiced ministrations  
knowing that the need within you complements my own.  
It all hits me and the nausea’s blinding.

Would you walk without me, sister?  
Would you venture to the territory unexplored  
and why would you tell me not to follow  
when already I’ve seen the reaches of Siberia  
been frost-bitten bone-chilled then scorched to Saharan dehydration  
all to see your smile like the sunlight?  
Would you deny me one last kiss?  
One last venture through your dark forbidden places  
the reaches of you no one knows but me?  
Could I, but for a moment…

Don’t lie to me. It doesn’t suit the color of your eyes.

Only sometimes I remember you  
because forgetting has an anesthetic comfort  
makes it easier to see your face  
because I only do so in my dreams.


End file.
